I'm Working On It

That's the noise I made earlier. It was me sucking in air while trying not to scream. I had hit my toe against the block of wood at the base of our leather couch, that I'm not a fan of by the way, and my last two toes felt like they were on fire and splayed out at an odd angle. My husband and baddog came running.

I did not cry and surprisingly i didn't even cuss. I just stood, bet over the couch sucking in air. I said I was fine and hubby and baddog returned to their food. I sat down and removed my sock to asses the damage. It looked ok, no toe horribly angled out (i broke a toe when I was younger and had to snap it back into place), no blood. So i got up, headed to the other room, and that's when I felt it, air on my toe, and air on my toe i a way that wasn't good. "Babe, i see blood," I said to hubby. "HUH?"

I threw my foot up on the kitchen sink (extremely sanitary i know) and made hubby look at it. "Oh man you tore off the top of the toe, damn!" WHAT!! like do i need stitches tore it off? "Um, naw I think your good, you just tore off the top of the toe skin and bent the nail back off over half way down. " I look at it and can see the flap of skin hanging off. I said "get me some clippers and I'll cut it off." he said "really?", well yeah, i can't stand having the skin hang there cause every time i walk the skin gets pulled up on the other toe and hurts worse. So i cut off the skin and realized at that point an open weeping wound on my foot might not be the best idea.

My hubby keeps saying "damn babe that has to hurt really bad, just being open and raw like that and the the nail bent back, seriously that has to hurt." Thanks for the reminder mr marine corps.

I hobble into the bathroom and try to find a bandage that would work. I find some gauze and ask hubby where he put the sterile tape he was using when he left the skin on his calf and knee attached to a motorcycle exhaust pipe. "oh i don't know but i've got some electrical tape." Really electrical tape? Come on, seriously? "Yeah it should work."

"Do you think you broke it?" he asks as I'm sitting down to tape the thing up. Feels like it. " let's go get it x rayed" I said to him your people would get it x rayed, my people says it's a toe, we don't x ray toes. Thankfully, he was putting the gauze in place and taping it because at this point the throbbing and pain has set in, unfortunately that caused me to go to tears, because it hurt like a toe whose skin had been removed and met the wood block at the base of a couch I am not particularly fond of. He said again, "what if you broke it?" My people don't get toes x rayed. "maybe your people are wrong, ever thought of that?"

I didn't respond, but no I hadn't thought of it.

How is it that a pizza, a nondescript food item, made of gooey goodness, can make the world right? Yesterday tried my patience, tried my......well everything. I cried no less than 3 times. Once because Cancergramps is decline at the rate of a runaway train, which I am thankful for (geez, that sounds awful, but I would rather a quick decline than a long, horrendously painful one, this one is painful enough for him). Once because I was on the phone dealing with a software issue of sincerely GREAT importance and the jackasses is my office are continually yelling at me to "pick up line one, hello line one is for you," "line 2 is for you, pick up line two." "Why can't you pick up the phone." "they still waiting on line 1, 2, 3, 4," are you going to pick it up?" Were they blind, deaf, dumb? I don't know, but generally when I see someone with a item that has a cord ans is attached to a base with numbers on it, I KNOW they are on the phone. So I did what an respectable person would do, closed the door, but the software people on hold and lowered my heavy big old head to the desk and cried. Just briefly, maybe a minute, but damn if it didn't somehow at the same time feel like a beautiful sunset and a betrayal all at the same time.

The last time I cried was at home on the couch that still has a tv occupying at least 75% of the available cushion area. I cried cause the day was over, my husband is a mess, I am a mess, our business is a mess, my grandfather is dying, I can't take a vaca and so and so on. Then I had the most brilliant thought - possibly ever- order a pizza, deliver it to my door, the world be all right if only for the time it takes me to eat my way out of my current misery. Which my the way I have been doing an awful lot of lately and my pants are not thanking me for it.

So I ordered a medium pizza, extra cheese, easy sauce, half pepperoni. It arrived and it was everything I had hoped for. Gooey, cheesy, easied sauce, lovely doughy, extra specialness. I ate a few pieces (3 to be exact, do not judge, i was having a moment:) and you know you would do the same thing!!!

So that is how pizza came to save my evening. To top it off hubby went to home depot and came back with a coke slurpee (my hero!!) Bad dog even snugged with me. He and I have had a few disagreements ever since he ate a chicken out of the trash and had so much gas you could literally squeeze him and he would fart. We have not been friends for about a week over his rude flatulence. Although I did feel for him, he couldn't have been comfortable farting in the wind like that for days on end.

"Check yourself before your wreck yourself, you better check check yourself before you wreck yourself."

Who new 90's rap could provide thoughtful insights. Lately I have been a funk. Not in a funk mind you, but I am the funk. Yes, life has thrown some curve balls and I feel like I might be in the bottom of the ninth inning, 1 run down and 2 outs, but at least I am in the game. That last piece of the sentence is the most important!!! I have never been a quitter, but, I'll be if this last 6 months hasn't almost beaten me. And to be honest, i haven't felt like I've been in the game in years really.

I have realized my perception isn't helping matters any either. I've never been a why me person. I never thought it would help matters much. Hey "It is what it is" right? I suppose I would just like some recognition that life currently is difficult. I have never had that - ever. Probably partly because I brush it away - don't want to make people uncomfortable. But most people don't even say ""sorry to hear about" or "our thoughts and prayers are with you"
They ask for the details, which I suppose is their way of showing care, but really, I don't want to be reminded everyday my grandpa is dying or every week my brother is retarded.

My friends have never asked what it's like to have a brother like mine - ever. Not in 25 years. And I think I have some really fantastic friends. Granted I push everyone away when life is difficult but still no one has ever asked what it's like. They'll ask how he is but never what it's like.

The loneliness. The feeling every time I hear " my brother and I took a trip ..." that their trip didn't involve containers of meds and seizures, fits of rage and moments so tense it feels like the entire world will snap under the pressure. Or their bother or sister is playing a sport, graduating, getting married, dating, have a baby - mine never will. I have no one to help shoulder the burden, as I am, for all intents and purposes an only child, without most of the benefits. Except as a friend reminded me - "at least you get everything when your parents pass, you don't have to fight over anything." Yes you are right, I get it all, all the worry, the stress, the where will he live, the how do i pay for it, the constant terrbile heart pounding fear he will not be treated well, or even fairly, that he will be taken advantage of.

So yes I get it all.

I know I am not alone in this pain, there have to be thousands of siblings like me, I just haven't run in to anyone willing to talk about it. It's like a lifetime of grieving daily. You grieve for the loss of the sibling you knew, and then at every turn in life - graduations, jobs, dating, marriage, trips, activities, births, things as simple as making dinner, driving - at every phase of life you grieve again for the loss a sibling who won't be able to experience those things with you, or share in the experience the way a "normal" sibling would.

I don't know if this grief is unlike grief for a person who passes, after all that person won't get the experience all the things that happen after they pass. I have lost grandparents, and it seems to fade after awhile, the constant dull thud of a life not there to be lived. But with my brother, he is there, everyday, a reminder of what could have been, a hope of what could be. And maybe it's not fair of me, to place it all on him

after all "It is what It is."

I stand before
you offering me
and finally
for once
it is enough
Thank you.

I cried so much that a phoenix rose
Rose to heights that flooded the streets
And still it is not over
It isn’t all I have to offer up as a sacrifice
For the happiness I have endured
My smile wears lines into my skin
While the frown that never shows wears lines in my soul
Lines that form roads tracing and haunting of a past unspoken

The beauty of a photography is the power it has to capture a moment in time still when no one else is aware life has stopped.

And just for that instant,
that one dragging piece of time,
the world is either tragically right or blissfully wrong.

Trying to hold on to my sanity with every breath I take
I think my sweaty grip may relinquish its’ hold and send me falling

Into an abyss I have already toured
An abyss, of which, I have already suffered the indignities of

Perhaps the greatest is realizing life is never the same
After having seen yourself from the inside out.

Learned the intricacies of my inner workings
Knowing I will never be the clinical equal to normal because of one white knuckled hand

Hanging on to sanity’s normality

I have decided there are far too many of them wondering around aimlessly on people's bodies.

I have 1 tattoo, thoughtfully misplaced in my younger days, and I am not completely against them. I think they can be beautiful. But what I am against is the idea that if you have a tattoo on your forehead, I have to hire you too work my front desk, or any other customer service job. I am also against the neck and sleeves and the general mishmash of tattoos that seem to run together and over with all meaning lost

So I think there should some guidelines for tats. Somthing simple easy and informative.

The only reasons to have a tat are as follows:

1. Memorial tats - enough said, I would also like to insist it be a for a person.
2. Jesus - I cannot argue against the Head Man hanging out anywhere
3. Military service tats. Except there is an exception to this exception. If you were a Marine. you can't get the dog w/ the hat (Devil Dog). It always ends up looking Smokey the Bear.

As a side note, Marines get really pissed off when this mistake occurs. For instance, I was in a bar with my husband (who was a Marine at the time and pre husband) in 29 palms, Ca (also know as hell) and I happened to look at a guys arm and I asked in my LOUD inside, I've had a few too many voice, "why does that jack ass have smokey the bear tatted on his arm." The Marine flexed his arm and while indicating it was the "Devil Dog, it's what's keeps you safe at night and he and I would die to do it" in his LOUD OUSTIDE voice. My husband gave me the "i swear to god if I didn't think you might one day have my babies, i'd harm you right here and now" look. As a review, just say it's nice - don't give away you have no idea what the heck it was supposed to be.

Back to the list
4. American flags, well really any American symbol that is widely recognized as American. i.e. the statue of liberty - yes, a cheeseburger - no.
5. A tat required by your religion and/or heritage.

6. Make sure it doesn't run together like say an ice cream cone, an eagle, your grandma's face. When this happens I think your grandma passed cause you were trying to make her eat ice cream while training an eagle. Not to mention this would violate rule #4.

In the spirit of Nik Rickie of "The Dirty" I decided.